Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves
by Hymntanra
Summary: A master thief has to start somewhere. The home of a powerful magician generally wasn't the right place to do so, though. Especially with a haughty little apprentice living there as well...Phantom kidfic.


Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves

A master thief has to start somewhere.

The house of an elderly but powerful magician was generally not the best place to do so.

In retrospect Phantom realized it had not been his brightest hour when he made that decision. Then again, most twelve year olds generally didn't make the smartest choices. Especially when under pressure. He could recall sitting in the middle of a field with two other boys. Both were quite a bit darker than himself; one would expect it from travelling Ariant gypsies, after all.

But the boys were familiar with Phantom—after all, their troupe had picked up the dirty and abandoned blonde off the side of the road. Ever since then he absentmindly had followed them and accepted this as 'family'. They were his 'brothers' and he saw no reason to recall his past. Phantom had been too young to remember much of it anyways. He didn't even bother to remember his birth name; the name the gypsies had given him was enough for him.

His 'mother' was a dancer by the side of the road and his 'father' sold false hope in the form of tarot reading. His 'brothers' didn't do much at the moment—they were only five year old twins and didn't have much in the way of skills. But they did have what every five year old boy had; curiosity and the energy to explore that curiosity. Currently, Phantom sat with them as per instructed by their mother. He was told to watch over them for the pair was known for being trouble. But Phantom wasn't really known to be a perfect child either…so they weren't exactly a group that inspired calm in the adults.

"We're thinking about doing a secret job." One of the brothers had grabbed Phantom's shoulder and pulled him in. The blonde simply rolled his eyes. "What, you think you can do better than us?"

"I'm older and smarter than both of you put together." Phantom retorted. "Anything you think you can do, I can do even better."

"You SURE?"

"Sure! I dare you to challenge me."

"Alright!" One of them cried out. "So, you know we just left that town in El Nath? Do you remember what everyone was talkin' about while we were wandering around? About the ancient old magician who has a house stuffed with incredibly valuable artifacts?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Duh, dummy!" The darker boy smacked Phantom on the forehead. "Don't you get it? VALUABLE artifacts! If we could get a hold on that junk, we could make a fortune! Mama could get a new dress to dance in and we could fix that stupid wagon wheel. AND have money left over."

"I don't know about this." Phantom said uncomfortably. "I mean…ANCIENT OLD MAGICIAN? That doesn't ring any alarms in your head?"

"You said you could do it! I dare you! I challenge you!" The boy shouted. "Besides, you should calm down. The townspeople were saying that the magician had taken off for the time being. Something about heading up to Orbis. If we break in secretly, take all the valuables, and take off from the boat across to the Folk Town…we could do that before he got back, right?"

Phantom considered it. If the 'ancient magician' wasn't in his dwelling then the situation was changed entirely. His stuff was left unguarded, though some of it was probably pretty dangerous. But the dangerous stuff was probably even more valuable…there was a lot of opportunity for profit here. Slowly, he nodded; yes, he would do this, and he would do it tonight. The troupe was bound to leave tomorrow morning anyways and Phantom wasn't keen on being left behind, at least not without these so called treasures.

He admitted the adrenaline present when he was sneaking about the house was enjoyable. Phantom had yet to do something like this before and it was remarkably thrilling to know he would be in ownership of such precious artifacts, with about 100% less work than it had taken the magician to get it. The mere idea almost made him laugh but he kept his trap shut. The house was a little bit away from the town but making too much noise would still not be in Phantom's favor.

Slowly, after picking the lock of the back door, it creaked open. The room was entirely dark. Phantom could barely make out a single thing. It was just piles upon piles of rough gray blob shapes. The blonde squinted and patted his arms around until he found a wax stick; a candle! With a sigh of relief, he pulled a matchbox out of his pocket and lit it. One small helpful candle wouldn't hurt—after all, he wouldn't be able to tell if the item was worth a damn if he couldn't even see it.

The room he was in didn't seem to have many valuables. It was just two benches covered in dusty sheets and odd plants; this was nothing that would do Phantom any good. Furniture, while valuable, was not portable enough. Odd plants would just die on the road. Plants had never been the greatest companions in a constantly changing environment. Trying to make no sounds, Phantom slipped into the next room.

It was a library. But the books held no interest to him; most of them weren't even in English. It was nonsense to a child with little formal education. What he DID find interesting was a vase that looked to be made of solid gold and encrusted with diamonds and emeralds. Now THIS was the sort of thing he had been looking for. He quickly stuffed it into the cushioned bag, careful to not break the delicate gold.

With a smirk, he turned to a small stone statue of a black dragon. Phantom didn't recognize the stone, which he immediately knew made it valuable. People would pay top dollar for unique and rare stones. None to mention that the eyes were shimmering topaz; yes, this would fetch a decent price as well. He stuffed it in the bag with the gold vase. Phantom's grin was almost stretching across his face; he couldn't even remember why he had been worried in the first place.

Until he turned around.

Phantom jumped back with a shriek. His back slammed against the bookshelf and knocked the novels down onto his head. There was another person in the room—his 'brothers' had LIED to him! The magician hadn't gone anywhere! The blonde wasn't sure how to handle this—after all, the guy who lived here apparently wasn't known for his good temper and didn't much like kids.

"Who are you?" Phantom perked his head up; the voice was far too high pitched to be the ancient magician that the villagers had gone on about. No, this was the voice of a child. "Get up. Drop the bag."

Slowly Phantom rose to his feet and released the bag. A little pale hand reached into the light of the candle and grasped the handle. Pulling it away from Phantom, the other child FINALLY came into view. The boy was young—perhaps even younger than Phantom. The blonde estimated him to be able ten. He had auburn hair and bright blue eyes, currently narrowed into a scowl. Phantom chuckled; this kid may have been angry but somehow he doubted this tiny thing would be able to do jackshit to him. The thief was not only older than him but also several sizes bigger. THIS little kid could barely fit into his white robes.

"I asked you a question." The boy said fiercely. "Who are you? And for that matter, what are you doing in my house?"

"YOUR house?" Phantom said incredulously. "I was told this house belonged to some ancient magician guy. No offense, but you aren't exactly looking like some big wise wizard."

"I'm his apprentice. Freud." The boy sniffed delicately; he was clearly insulted by Phantom's word choice. "Master Anif left me in charge of his house while he was in Orbis."

Phantom had to control his laughter. This old guy was making this WAY too easy on him. He had left a LITTLE BRAT, who was barely large enough to intimidate a rabbit, to guard his immensely valuable artifacts? He figured this 'master magician' was just going a bit senile. All to Phantom advantage.

" Well. My name is Phantom, and I happen to be doing a little…collecting at this here house." The blonde said smoothly, bowing slightly at the waist. Freud seemed highly unimpressed. "I would very much appreciate it if you would go back to your room and go back to sleep. Oh, but you could light some candles first."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Freud snorted. Phantom twitched. "You're no collector. You're just a common thief. Do you think we haven't gotten your type here before? Master Anif and I have dealt with thieves from ages eight to eighty with all different levels of expertise. And not a single one of them got anything worth a damn from this house. I sincerely doubt that a filthy little kid could do any better than the countless amounts of other thieves."

"Awww, but it looks like your precious Master Anif isn't here." Phantom cooed. He was a bit annoyed with this kid; there was an obvious streak of a superiority complex lying behind those seemingly innocent big blue eyes. And the blonde was happy to see a sudden twinge of fear in those eyes; he had hit where it hurt. "That's too bad. I guess he can't help you fight this filthy little kid, huh?"

Freud was silent, and then he turned around and retreated to his room. Phantom actually began laughing this time; the kid had been so pompous and yet all it took was pointing out such a minimal flaw in his logic. This really WAS too easy. But with a flinch, he realized the boy was coming back and he was coming back with a weapon. Freud now wielded a large wooden staff twice his side and his eyes now burned with a new determination.

"I can handle you." Freud stated, dropping the staff onto Phantom's head. The blonde squealed in pain, reaching out to smack the redhead across the face. Freud fell back a bit then jumped to his feet to kick Phantom in the knee. It did them both no favors; Phantom fell back clutching at his shin and Freud fell back holding his bare foot. They both glared at each other from across the room.

"You're a real troublemaker, FREUD."

"You're no angel yourself, PHANTOM." The redhead snapped. "What kind of dumb name is that, anyways? Phantom isn't a NAME. It's a stupid noun."

"You're stupid."

"Ooh, how CLEVER." Freud said sarcastically, rising to his feet but shifting his weight to his uninjured foot. "Got any more brilliant comebacks for me, or would you rather just leave now?"

"What, you still think you can beat me? I'm fine enough." Phantom retorted, holding his leg up so the pain in his shin would be lessened. "Come on, show me what you got!"

"Fine!" Freud screeched, throwing a book at Phantom's head. The blonde luckily caught it but the next heavy volume pegged him in the nose. Phantom rubbed his bleeding nose and finally just lunged at the redhead. Freud fell back on the floor, pushing his feet into Phantom's stomach and flipping him over. Taking the wooden staff in his hands he went to smack the blonde with it. He was stopped when Phantom grabbed his cheeks and pulled hard. The staff dropped from his little hands as he whined in pain and smacked his hands against Phantom's chest.

"WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON HERE?!"

Both children froze. Freud, looking terrified, stumbled away from Phantom and stood up straight with his hands behind his back. He still tried to shift his weight to his uninjured foot. Phantom peered up to what had shouted; it was a wizen old man wearing old patched robes. His gray eyes were burning with fury as he took in the messy room and the two bruised and beaten children. The little thief realized, with a jolt of fear, that this was the ancient magician they had been talking about in town.

Master Anif.

"Freud. Who is this." The old man said steadily.

"He is a thief. He broke into the house. I was just trying to stop him. He was trying to steal the gold vase and the black dragon statue." Freud said hurriedly. He attempted to go on, but Anif put his hand up.

"What is your name, little thief?"

"…My name is Phantom." The blonde muttered. He knew he was in trouble. Anif circled him, taking in the bruises and scratches.

"My, my, Freud DID do quite a number on you. You're nose is bleeding and that scratch on your shoulder probably won't heal any time soon. Hell, might leave a scar." Anif mused. Phantom flinched then glared at Freud. The redhead just stuck out his tongue. "Freud. Control yourself or you'll be punished. Now…Phantom. You look like you've got dirt and wounds that didn't come from my apprentice's rather savage beating. Where do you come from?"

"I'm travelling with gypsies from Ariant." Phantom muttered.

"Ah, the travelling troupe that just came through recently." Anif said knowledgeably. "Yes, I recall hearing about that. Apparently your people gave quite the performance. Some nice tarot, too. Can you do tarot?"

"A little."

"Would you read my fortune, little thief?"

"Master Anif!" Freud said incredulously.

"Shut up, Freud. I haven't gotten a fortune in years, especially not a good old fashioned gypsy fortune." Anif shushed his apprentice and Freud fell silent. "How about this, little thief. If you tell me my fortune and I am satisfied with it, I'll let you go. And I'll even throw in a little gift."

"MASTER ANIF?!"

"I said shut up, Freud. You'll understand when you get older." Anif said absentmindedly. Phantom would have been gloating if he wasn't so confused. This old man was just going to let him off the hook for a GYPSY TRICK? Well…if it got him off the hook then Phantom would do whatever the hell the old bastard wanted. He was obviously senile anyways.

Slowly, he laid out the long cards that Anif had given him. Each one was emblazed on the back with a pattern of red and gold, centered with what looked to be a bird face. They were interesting cards, Phantom noted, and he liked them quite a bit. He considered taking them while Anif wasn't looking…then remembered that he was pushing his luck as it was. So, with a sigh, he flipped the three cards he had laid out for the old magician.

"The Justice card, in the upright lay." Phantom began. "This is a card that signifies harmony, balance, and a considerate person. The Justice card signifies that you or someone in your life will proper in this lifetime. It will be a long lifetime in which much learning is made—and it will be a lifetime that will leave you satisfied with the results."

Anif snorted. "Congratulations, apprentice. He's got to be talking about you—I've wasted so much of my life to be satisfied with the results."

Ignoring Freud's scowl and Anif's comments, Phantom flipped the next card and paused. "…Death. Flipped in the upright position, unfortunately…not that the reverse is good news either. In the upright, though, it signifies…well…you can probably figure it out. After all, you kind of seem like an elderly guy."

"No shit, kid." Anif said flippantly. Phantom shivered; he wasn't impressing Anif as far as he could tell. He flipped the final card.

"The Hierophant, in the reverse." Phantom said. "Sir, you are an individual with unconventional behavior; an inventor, a man who tests the limits of society and his own abilities. In combination with the Justice card and the Death card…while you might not agree with my consensus, I say that you will be surprised when you die. You'll find yourself looking back on your life in a much more fond mindset."

Anif was silent. Then he let out a small chuckled. "You are something else, kid. And who knows, maybe you're right. You seem to know your shit. It's always possible…and I can tell, oh, I can tell…yes. I think I'll choose to believe you are correct though I don't think I'll be looking back TOO fondly while I'm still alive."

"Maybe it's supposed to be that way."

"Maybe." Anif chuckled. He placed his thumbs above Phantom's eyes with a weak smile. "You will be rewarded."

"Rewarded…?"

"Yes." Anif closed his eyes and muttered under his breath. Phantom felt as if his own breath was taken away; his skin seemed to glow and his eyes lit up. In the background Freud bit his lip nervously. Suddenly, Phantom had his breath and his body was exactly the same as it had been. He looked at his hands to see if ANYTHING had changed; absolutely nothing. "It looks like nothing happened, I know. You'll see as you go along, though. You'll find out the special little gift I gave you. Oh, and…take the cards, will you? I think a little thief like you could use them better."

Phantom thanks the man with a deep bow and rushed out the door. Anif turned to Freud with a smile that confused the redhead. "You're just a child, Freud. You'll understand one day. Besides, it's very likely that you'll be seeing that boy again. And it's very likely he'll be very important at that time."

"Hmph. I hope that scratch on his shoulder scars." Freud crossed his arms and puffed up his cheeks.  
"Yeah, yeah, go back to bed and try to not bite anymore."

Phantom woke up the next morning back at his troupe's caravan cart. His 'mother' was shaking his arm urgently, telling him they had to flee now. Apparently there were rumors about the father selling 'fake' love potions—which really, they were, but most people would put themselves under the illusion to maintain their dream. But this time they hadn't and the troupe had to take off early.

He was surprised when he stepped out of the caravan, though; standing by the door was the little redhead from Anif's house. And he was just as bruised as Phantom was. So that hadn't all been a crazy illusion; that weird old man really DID let him off the hook in exchange for the fortune (though he had hoped the 'gift' would be something other than a parlor trick and a set of cards). Something told the blonde that Freud was nowhere near pleased with Phantom getting off the bat so easily.

"Hello." Freud said. "You're the boy from last night, I believe."

"What of it? Want a matching black eye?"

"No. Don't be an animal." Freud said shortly. "I came to give you something."

"What? Why would you—"

"Here." Freud shoved his bag into Phantom's hands. "It's the gold vase. And the dragon statue. Each are worth about 20 million mesos but you could probably up the price without anyone complaining."

"What the…why are you giving me this? Did you curse it?" Phantom asked suspiciously. Freud WAS a magician's apprentice, after all; who KNEW what he was capable of? But the younger boy just rolled his eyes.

"NO, I didn't curse it. I don't even know how to curse yet." Phantom was unnerved by the addition of the word yet but Freud paid him no mind. "I'm giving it to you so you can help your little caravan here. And because of something Master Anif said."

"What'd the senile bastard say?"

"Don't call my master a senile bastard, if you don't mind." Freud said tensely. "And he said something weird, but I guess I should pay heed to it. He's my master, after all."

"Well, what the hell did he say?"

"…I would meet you again. And you'd be important then."


End file.
